Morning in the forest began unhurriedly. The sun was only just rising, slipping through the dense canopy in soft, diffused light. The damp air smelled of earth, pine needles, and something else — fresh, like after a recent rain, even though it hadn't rained here for several days.
Three hunters moved between the trees, stepping carefully so as not to snap dry branches. Their pace was steady and familiar — the way people walk when they spend more time in the forest than at home.
— At dawn there's usually more game, — one of them remarked quietly, scanning the surroundings. — But today it feels dead.
— Maybe the animals went closer to the water, — another shrugged.
The eldest said nothing. He stopped and listened.
At that very moment, a dull удар rolled through the forest. Not sharp, not explosive — heavy, pressing, the kind that made ears ring for a second. Somewhere in the distance, birds burst from the branches, raising a brief, alarmed noise.
The hunters froze.
— What was that?.. — the youngest asked cautiously.
The elder slowly turned his head toward the coast, toward where the sound had come from.
— I don't know. Doesn't sound like thunder, — he said after a pause. — We should check it out.
The youngest — the one who had joined the group only recently — tensed and looked at his companion with doubt.
— Are you sure that's a good idea? Maybe we should head back to the village and report it to the reeve. He'll figure it out himself.
The two hunters exchanged glances, shrugged, and continued deeper into the forest without paying the youngest any attention. He had no choice but to follow after them.
«How did these old men even live this long…»
They had been walking for several minutes, moving deeper into the woods. At first they went quickly, barely speaking, then their pace slowed — the terrain became uneven, roots and fallen logs forcing them to weave around. Old trails had long since vanished, and each of them chose the path by instinct.
The sun climbed higher, the light grew brighter, and the forest slowly came back to life. Birds sang again, a branch cracked somewhere in the distance — maybe a deer or a boar. Everything looked perfectly ordinary, and that was exactly what began to unsettle the youngest.
— We've gone pretty far already, — he muttered, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. — If something serious happened, we would've noticed by now, right?
— Listen, Garen, — Ovin spoke up. — The sound came from the direction of the beach. I think we should reach the trail and follow it.
Ovin, Garen's age, was a half-elf and had an excellent ear. He heard far better than the others and was usually the one who led them to their prey. Thanks to him, they almost never returned to the village empty-handed.
His hearing had never failed them.
Garen knew that, and after a short pause, he nodded.
Turning toward the trail, they headed for the coast, carefully watching their surroundings, trying not to miss anything.
The ground underfoot became increasingly disturbed, as if something heavy had passed through recently. In several places, the bark on the trees was strangely darkened — not charred, but as if bleached. Garen stopped a couple of times, crouched, ran his fingers through the soil, and then continued on without a word.
The farther they went, the quieter the forest became. The air itself felt normal, but there was a faint aftertaste to it — sharp and subtle, like the smell after a distant storm. Easy to miss, unless you knew what to look for.
At last, something unusual appeared ahead. Thirty or forty meters away, the ground had sunk inward, forming an uneven depression. The youngest hunter noticed it first and pointed.
Garen and Ovin stopped beside him, peering through the gap between the trees. The earth ahead truly was caved in, as if it had been driven downward by a powerful blow.
— Yeah… — Garen said quietly. — Looks like we're in the right place.
They moved forward, neither speeding up nor slowing down. The forest around them remained unnaturally quiet, and that silence felt heavier than any sound.
Suddenly, Garen stopped short and threw out an arm, blocking the way.
— Stop.
— What now… — Suron began, then cut himself off.
Without a word, Garen leaned forward and pressed a hand over Suron's mouth, pointing with the other toward the crater.
Suron wanted to protest, but froze as he followed the gesture.
A few steps from the crater's edge, on the damp ground, lay a figure.
Small. Motionless. Wrapped in light-colored fabric that stood out sharply against the dark soil.
— …Is that a person? — Suron breathed.
— We need to check if they're alive.
They moved closer.
Now it was clear that it was a girl — at least at first glance. Long silver hair was spread across the ground, partially hiding her face. Her features were calm, almost serene, as if she were simply asleep. The white cloth was wrapped hastily, but it covered her completely.
— …Damn, — Suron exhaled, then immediately bit his tongue, as if afraid to speak louder.
Garen had already dropped to one knee. He carefully shifted the edge of the fabric, checked her breathing, then placed two fingers against her neck.
— Alive, — he said shortly. — There's a pulse.
Ovin crouched on the other side. His gaze moved over her body — shoulders, arms, legs — not assessing, but examining.
— I don't see any injuries, — he said after a moment. — No burns, no wounds. Strange.
Suron glanced around and noticed something at the bottom of the crater — a dull glimmer that remained even after the dust had fully settled.
— Hey, — he pointed. — What's that?
Ovin stood and carefully climbed down. The ground beneath his feet was fused and hard, but it held. He bent down and picked up a small object.
In his palm lay a sphere about the size of a large nut. It faintly crackled, releasing thin electrical discharges from time to time.
— A Thunder Fox core… — he said slowly. — And a fresh one.
He looked up at Garen, then back at the motionless figure beside him.
Garen followed his gaze — first to the sphere, then to the body.
For a moment, he thought in silence, but didn't voice his thoughts.
— Alright, — he said at last. — We'll sort this out in the village. Take her to the infirmary. Let them examine her properly.
Then he nodded toward the sphere.
— We're taking the core too.
— And who's carrying her? — Ovin asked cautiously.
Garen looked at Suron.
— Suron.
— Me?! — Suron flared up. — Why me? You found her, you carry her—
— You complain the most and do the least. At least do something useful.
Suron muttered something under his breath, but still bent down and carefully lifted the body into his arms. It was unexpectedly light.
He instinctively brushed the strands of hair away from her face so they wouldn't get in the way — and froze for a second.
«Damn… like a sleeping angel».
— Don't stare, — Garen said. — Let's go.
And they headed back along the trail, carrying their strange discovery with them, leaving behind the crater and the silence — along with the lingering scent of ozone that trembled in the air for a long time afterward.
.
.
.
When they returned to the village, the hunters didn't linger and went straight to the infirmary. Morning was only just taking hold, the streets were nearly empty, and only a few passersby watched them with surprised looks.
Only one medic was on duty — a young woman who, against all rules, was dozing while leaning against the doorframe near the entrance.
— Hey, Sophie! — Garen called out. — Sleeping on the job again?
— Ahh— Dad! — she jolted upright. — I wasn't sleeping! I was just… resting my eyes. For a second…
She was about to say more, but the words caught in her throat when she noticed Suron carrying someone wrapped in white cloth.
Sophie slowly shifted her gaze from Suron's face to the motionless figure in his arms.
— That's… — she swallowed. — Who is that?
— We brought you a patient, — he said with a faint smile, clearly trying to appear calmer than he felt.
At that exact moment, he tripped over a stone near the entrance and nearly dropped her.
— Careful! — Sophie snapped, instantly wide awake. — Quickly, bring her inside!
She turned and rushed in, the rest of the group following obediently behind her.
The infirmary was small but neat. The spacious room was divided into several areas: wooden cots with clean sheets lined the walls, one of them curtained off to the side. In the corner, a magical lamp glowed softly, filling the room with warm light and no harsh shadows.
The air smelled of herbs and something sharp — a mix of tinctures, medicine, and faint alcohol. The scent brought an immediate sense of calm.
Shelves along the walls held neatly arranged bottles with labels, rolls of bandages, mortars, and bowls with dried remnants of green and brown powders. Nothing here was luxurious, but everything was well cared for — clearly maintained with attention.
Sophie quickly pointed to an empty cot by the window.
— Here. Carefully, — she said, her tone now focused and professional.
— And… what are you going to do with her next? — Suron asked.
Sophie gave him an annoyed look. The same one she always used when Suron asked obvious questions. She closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and answered anyway:
— You just brought her in. First, I need to perform a full examination. Check for bruises, internal injuries, or anything serious.
The hunters listened closely, but judging by their expressions, no hidden meaning reached them, and they remained standing where they were.
Sophie slowly looked at them.
— I said a full examination, — she emphasized. — Which means you should leave.
The men exchanged glances. Then looked once more at the figure lying on the cot. Only after a couple of seconds did the meaning finally sink in.
— Oh… — Suron muttered.
Clearing their throats, scratching the backs of their heads, and carefully averting their eyes, the hunters turned and, one by one, left the infirmary, leaving Sophie alone with the patient.